


and if that was me, then who am i?

by Haberdasher



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Circus, Gen, Martin Blackwood Needs a Hug, Names, POV Martin Blackwood, Running Away, Smile, Stranger Avatar Martin Blackwood, Vaguely Inspired By The Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23994088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: A young Martin joins the Circus.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	and if that was me, then who am i?

Martin Blackwood was nine years old, and his mother’s health was getting worse by the day, and his father was gone never to return, and his world was crumbling around him. Things he’d taken for granted, responsibilities that he’d figured the adults around him would attend to for him for years to come if not for the rest of his life, were suddenly falling on his shoulders, left undone if he didn’t step up to the plate. He wasn’t working, as it wasn’t exactly an option at his age, but he did just about everything else he could to keep the house up and running. Even then, it seemed like it was never enough, like the perpetual frown on his mother’s face grew deeper by the day.

For all he did, though, Martin was still nine years old, still just a child, still prone to youthful flights of fancy. Perhaps it was little surprise that he spent every minute he wasn’t busy with schoolwork or housework with his nose stuck in a book, desperately longing to escape his reality by delving into another, at least for a little while.

Martin knew well enough, when news got around that a circus was coming to town, that he wouldn’t be able to go. There was too much to do at home, too little money to spare for such luxuries. He still asked his mother, though, despite knowing her answer before he voiced the question. He did want to go, after all, did want to enjoy himself in an evening of pure escapism, and this way it was her word forbidding it, not just simple logic that he could try to weasel his way out of. And it burned, knowing that all the other children would doubtlessly be talking nonstop for weeks about something he would never see, would never be a part of.

As the circus’ performance neared, Martin yearned to find some way to attend the circus, despite all logic, despite his mother’s refusal, despite everything... and something occurred to him.

He’d read more than one story involving children who, when stuck in a living situation they couldn’t tolerate anymore, ran off to join the circus. And technically, his mother had told him not to _attend_ the circus, not to not _join_ it.

It wasn’t fair to his mother, of course, but she seemed unhappy enough regardless, and Martin could swear just the sight of his face made her frown all the greater for some reason, so maybe she’d be better off without him. And then he could start a new life with the circus, one less mundane and brutal than the one he had to face on a daily basis. A win-win situation.

Three days before the circus was set to open, Martin grabbed a handful of his dearest belongings, shoved them into a bag, and sneaked into the circus grounds with them in hand, a mix of anxiety and sheer desperation pushing him onward, fueling every step he took deeper into the heart of the circus.

Opening a random door exposed Martin unexpectedly to a view of the stage, albeit a skewed one, far from the sort of angle an audience would normally get. Even though the circus wasn’t open for business yet, a performance of some sort--a rehearsal, perhaps?--was going on just the same, and Martin was lucky enough to be its only audience member.

Colors and lights and music and movement intermingled until it was hard to say where one part of the action ended and another began. It was a dizzying, dazzling, overwhelming performance, and it was impossible and it was illogical and it was beautiful, and as Martin looked on he knew that he’d made the right move, that somewhere this wonderful must be where he was meant to be.

Martin let out a soft gasp at one point that caught him especially off-guard--something to do with knives, or a tightrope, or maybe both, it all blended together into one strange jumbled blur in his brain--and seconds after, a cold hand pressed against his shoulder.

“Here for a sneak preview?”

Martin turned around. The outlandish and blindingly colorful outfit of the man in front of him marked him as a member of the circus troupe, though Martin couldn’t remember if he’d seen the man before, either when making his way through the circus or when watching the stage.

Did... did he think Martin was just there to get out of paying? Or out of impatience, too eager to see a performance that was just days away anyhow? Because that wasn’t right at all, and he didn’t want that to be the first impression any of the circus members got of him.

“No, no, not like that--I mean, I watched some, I guess, and it was great and all, but--I came here because I want to join you.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “You want to join the Circus?”

Martin nodded, desperately, trying to ignore how his hands were shaking, how his vision was blurring with half-stifled tears, how what this strange man decided in the next minute or two might change the course of Martin’s life forever. “I do. I want to be a part of- of all of this. I did before I saw it in action, but even more now. It’s- it’s wonderful, and I want to help make it happen again.”

“Hmm.” The man tapped his fingers against the nearby wall, and Martin flinched a little as the man’s arm drew awkwardly close to him in the process. “That’s a new one.”

Martin hadn’t thought it would be a “new one.” This happened all the time in stories, didn’t it? Were the stories all lies, then?

“Tell you what, how about we go see Nikola.” The words suggested that there was a question involved, that Martin was being given a choice, but between the circus member’s flat tone of voice and the way his fingers curled around Martin’s wrist, Martin was left very sure that he was going to see this Nikola whether he wanted to or not. “Rehearsal’s wrapping up, so she should be free soon, and if anyone’s going to decide if you can stay with us it’s her.”

“A-alright. Sure.” Maybe the choice being offered was a false one, but Martin wanted to make it clear that he was willing to go along with it all, that he wasn’t going to put up a fuss or disobey at the first sign of trouble.

The walk between where Martin had been spying on the stage and where Nikola stood in front of a crowd of circus performers wasn’t long, but it was dizzying just the same. It wasn’t quite like the performance, but just walking through the circus was enough to fill Martin’s head with colors and lights and sounds the likes of which he had never imagined, let alone experienced, before that night.

Martin wasn’t sure whether he’d know which of the people around him were “Nikola” at first, but he figured it out pretty fast. Most of the circus performers seemed normal enough, at least by circus performer standards; sure, they were all strangers, and something about those surrounding him gave Martin a pit in his stomach, but they could easily have been pulled out of one of the storybooks Martin enjoyed so much, the sort of stock characters one would expect to see around a circus. Nikola, on the other hand... well.

She wasn’t _actually_ a mannequin, was she?

No, of course not, that didn’t make sense. Living mannequins were only a thing in stories, and Martin had already learned that stories couldn’t be trusted as guides to reality that easily. It had to be some sort of elaborate make-up that made her look more doll than human. Though why Nikola then had clown make-up _over_ the mannequin make-up was a little confusing... it seemed like one or the other would make more sense than combining the two... but it wasn’t his call to make, of course.

Besides, Martin had already gathered that making sense wasn’t the be-all and end-all here, and that was part of the attraction. Staying home and caring for his ill mother would _make sense_ , but that wasn’t the life Martin wanted to live. The circus promised him so much more.

“Nikola?”

Without warning, the man that had led Martin to Nikola gripped Martin’s wrist hard and used it to hold him up.

“Hey!” Martin did his best to wriggle his way out of the circus member’s grip, but to no avail.

“I found this boy intruding on our property, watching the rehearsal. He says he wants to join the Circus.”

“Oh? How _fascinating!_ ” Nikola’s voice was high and energetic, and the bright red lips drawn onto her face didn’t move when she spoke. “Come here, boy.”

The grip on Martin’s wrist loosened as abruptly as it had tightened, and Martin half-walked half-stumbled over to Nikola, shaking out his hand to try and reduce the ache lingering in his wrist from where he’d been held.

“Let me get a closer look...” Nikola’s hand shot out and cupped Martin’s chin, tilting his face so that it was staring up at hers, and her hand felt cold and plastic and lifeless and the feeling of it pressed against his chin made the hairs on Martin’s back stand up straight.

“Do you have any special talents, boy?”

“Um... not really, honestly, but-” Martin could feel his face growing hot. “But I’m a quick learner, and I can do a lot when I put my mind to it, so I’m sure I can help you out somehow!”

“Oh, that’s fine, I’m sure we can find a place for you _somewhere_.” Nikola withdrew her hand, though Martin still looked up at her, hoping to see some sign in her facial expression that’d give away whether she’d allow him to stay. (No such luck, unfortunately, as her face was utterly still, acting less like make-up over a regular face and more like paint atop a doll.) “I’m Nikola, by the way. I run the Circus these days.”

Martin considered saying that he’d already gathered as much, but decided to stay silent instead.

“And who might you be?”

“I’m...”

Martin hesitated, considering his options. If he just gave his real name out, would they report him to the authorities, send him back to his mother? Even if they didn’t, he was hoping to start a new life here, and did he really want that life to be tied to the same name as his old one? If he was going to reinvent himself, why not go all the way?

If he wasn’t Martin, though, who was he?

Martin’s mind wandered back to all the books he’d read over the years, remembered an old, beaten-up library book about mythology that he’d come back to time and time again, and settled on an answer.

“...Loki. I’m Loki.”

“Wonderful, wonderful! It is a _pleasure_ to meet you, dear Loki!”

He’d realized that he was being tested, before, but hadn’t realized that being asked for his name was part of the test until looking around and seeing the broad smiles on the faces of all the circus performers.

When was the last time he’d seen a sea of smiles like that?

When was the last time he’d seen even a single smile like that, wide and genuine and mirthful?

“I think you’ll fit in just fine here, Loki. Welcome to the Circus!”

Nikola extended her hand, and he took it, and her hand was cold and inhuman but he was surrounded by smiling faces and unnatural beauty and if a cold handshake was the price he had to pay to fit in here, that was a price well worth paying.

Loki looked out at the crowd and gave a smile of his own, weak but passionate.

He’d found a place in the world, now, and he was never looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm calling this a oneshot because I'm only turning it into a multichap if I actually know where said multichap is going and I definitely am not there yet.  
> That being said, there's a decent chance this will eventually become a multichap, so if you like it, keep a look out for more sometime down the road!  
> If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr at [haberdashing](https://haberdashing.tumblr.com/)!


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